


With a click, with a shock

by ThisShipHasSails



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisShipHasSails/pseuds/ThisShipHasSails
Summary: Just a short moment of introspection, as the Doctor ponders over what the Solitract showed her – and what it didn’t.Title from West Side Story’s “Something’s Coming”.





	1. Chapter 1

A frog.

The sentient power of an entire universe at its disposal, and it had chosen to appear to her in the form of a frog. She had seen many a thing in her many a life, and the sheer surprise of it all delights her, as she steers the TARDIS through the emptiness of time and space.

Her favourite grandmother's favourite bedtime story, and all it came down to was a frog. How she would have enjoyed that particular plot twist.

 _And love_ , she hears the long-ago voice reverberating in her head.

Of course, she muses, as she flips another switch.

Love.

That age-old power. Another one of Granny 5's favourite bedtime stories, and the bottom line to them all.

_Always remember, Theta. Love, like hope, abides._

As a boy, she remembers feeling the tiniest bit of unease at those words that were meant to soothe and reassure.

Older now, she knows that this, like all her Granny's bedtime stories, was as much a promise as it was a warning about the most powerful force in the universe.

And as she’s about to check one of the ship’s many monitors, her hand stills in mid-air.

“I should have known.”

The realisation hits her like the proverbial tidal wave: slowly, and then all at once. The impact is physical as it makes her hearts stutter and her breath catch in her throat, and the clarity that comes with the realisation is almost blinding.

 

_"Are you alright?"_

_Yaz's voice reaches her from afar, although they stand mere feet apart in that Norwegian wood._

_"Think so. Probably."_

_Something has shifted right underneath her feet, she can feel it. But try as she might, she just cannot put her finger on it._

 

But now, back in the TARDIS and hours after her three companions have gone to bed, she knows. Knows what she should have seen, _who_ she should have seen. Who should have been with her all along in that perfect mirror universe.

And in that same moment, she also knows why she wasn't there.

Because somebody else was.

_Love, like hope, abides, Theta._

"Until it doesn't, Granny. Until it doesn't", she murmurs.

Until you turn your head expecting to see a familiar face framed by curls that are made of sunlight, and find yourself looking into the eyes of a stranger.

Except that they are not a stranger, but somebody who has been holding her hearts for longer than she cares to admit right at this moment in the vastness of space and in her little blue box.

And if she was scared before, she is positively terrified now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was a stand-alone scene, until I wrote something that required a bit of a River setup, and then thought it would be a neat fit. And I hope it is!

They find her the next morning, fast asleep on the floor in the middle of the console room, utterly dishevelled and lying amidst pictures of a woman with an explosion of curly hair in the company of various men, who all look at her with the same lovestruck expression. 

Yaz spots a tattered blue book amongst the photographs and she kneels down to pick it up.

“Don’t.” 

The Doctor’s voice startles Yaz almost as much as the reprimand. Her tone is soft, but the message is sharp, and Yaz cannot help the brief flicker of hurt passing through her. The Doctor must have noticed, for she gives her an apologetic smile, as she sits up and stretches out her hand to take the diary. 

“Please. It’s … personal.”

Yaz shifts closer to signal that she is listening, and to her surprise, the Doctor continues talking.

“It’s … my wife’s, actually. Was. Until she died. Which makes it mine now, I guess … Anyway.”

In the resulting silence, Yaz looks at the Doctor from where she is kneeling and is struck by the shadows under her eyes and a look she has not seen since they started traveling the universe together all these months ago: resignation. And heartbreak. And as Yaz looks into the Doctor’s eyes, she imagines for a moment that she can see right down the years and into her past, but before she can ask the Doctor whether there’s anything she can do for her, the Doctor breaks their eye contact and starts collecting the photographs that are strewn all around her. 

She’d forgotten the time, and somehow this always happens in the company of her wife, even if imaginary. She had not counted on her three companions to find her in the middle of what essentially amounts to an emotional breakdown, and she is so drained after half a night of desperately trying but failing to hold on to feelings of the past in order to not having to face feelings of the present, that she cannot think of anything to say that would reassure her companions that she is really and truly fine. Which would be a lie anyway. So she just stands up, pictures in hand, and then she leaves, her shoulders slumped forward and her head bowed low, and retreats into the depths of her ship.

Graham and Ryan share a helpless look and turn to Yaz, who will surely run after the Doctor and take care of her, as she always does. It is only then that they realise that Yaz is still kneeling where the Doctor left her, with a look on her face as forlorn as the Doctor’s. 

“Yaz?”, Ryan asks tentatively, but Graham has already taken a step towards her and motions to Ryan to follow the Doctor. 

As the younger man disappears after the Doctor, Graham carefully approaches his young friend and quasi-granddaughter.

“Come on, Yaz. How about I put the kettle on?”


	3. Wingman Graham

It’s a silent trek to the kitchen, and Graham busies himself with making tea as soon as they get there. Nothing a good cuppa can’t make better, his mum always used to say, and she was right about pretty much everything.

He is too old to find silences like this awkward, but he doesn’t want to make Yaz more uncomfortable than she already is, if her fidgeting is any indication. So he puts the two steaming mugs on the table, sits down and motions at Yaz to do the same. But she just stands next to a chair, her gaze out of focus, her minds miles away.

“Yaz?”

She startles slightly. “Sorry, Graham”, she tries to sound cheerful, but it sounds fake even to her own ears. “Afraid I’m not the best of companies at the moment”, she adds with a sigh.

“Actually, about that”, and he uses his grandfatherly voice that makes Yaz yearn for a hug and want to run away at the same time, so she does neither and just slumps down on the chair closest to her.

“I’m not sure I wanna talk about it”, Yaz says quietly. She actually knows full well she really doesn’t want to talk about it, but she also knows that Graham is her friend as well as her friend’s grandfather, which practically makes him her grandfather, too. At least that’s how he sees it. And she just doesn’t have it in her to turn him away. She’s too tired to upset yet another person she cares for.

So she sighs deeply and turns her head to look at him. And the deep care she sees in his eyes almost makes her choke up again, but she forces down the tears and resigns herself to the conversation Graham apparently insists they have.

“I just wish I could understand, Graham. One moment I think that there might be something between us, you know”, she says, vaguely gesturing with her hands, “and the next moment she is literally running away from me. And a wife? Really? I mean, she could have mentioned her at least!” It’s only when Graham raises his hands as if in self-defence that Yaz realises that she has raised her voice.

“I know, Yaz. But you have to understand. It does something to you. Losing your wife.”

And as Graham’s voice goes softer, Yaz suddenly feels terrible for bringing up the Doctor’s wife with Graham, and the Doctor’s dead wife, at that. But before she can apologise, he continues.

“It’s what grief does, at its worst. Makes you feel all alone, like there is nobody in the whole world you can turn to, because the one person that there was, is gone. Forever. And suddenly you realise that forever is a bloody long time. Particularly when, like the Doctor, you actually get to live that long. Or at least as close to forever as it gets.” 

Graham takes a sip of his tea, which immediately warms him from the inside. 

“You know, Grace has only been dead for 9 and a half months now, and with any luck, I have another twenty or so years without her by her side. And already part of me is looking forward to not being without her anymore.”

“Graham”, Yaz says, voice barely above a whisper, but she really doesn’t know what to say to that, so she forsakes words for the sake of taking his hand across the table, and she thinks she can detect a small smile playing across his lips. 

“No, Yaz. It's fine. Don't you worry about me. Whenever it is time for me to go, I'll do so knowing that I had a good run with a couple of glorious years thrown in for good measure. Including this time with you three, which I wouldn’t miss for the world. You know, along with her love, Grace gave me the biggest gift I didn't even dare ask for: family. A grandson. Never thought I would have that, you know.”

And now he smiles fully, and it warms her heart. She lets go of his hand with a final squeeze and looks into eyes that are getting old and have always been kind, and she feels her own eyes fill with tears.

“All I'm saying is that, having had my own share of heartbreak in one lifetime and having that almost destroy me if it hadn’t been for Ryan, you, and the Doctor, I cannot imagine how she made it through what sounds like several lifetimes of heartbreak. I think it’s a miracle she’s still around, to tell you the truth, let alone daring herself to come close to loving somebody again.”

At his choice of words, Yaz makes as if to interrupt him, but he quickly carries on, forestalling her protest.

“And I do you think she loves you, Yaz. I’ve seen the way you look at each other when you forget that Ryan and I are around”, he says, as his smile briefly turns mischievous. “But I also think she is afraid. And she’s right to. At its worst, love is the scariest thing there is, if you ask me.”

“And at its best?” Yaz whispers, not trusting her voice. 

“At its best, it’s worth it all.”


	4. Wingman Ryan

He finds her on the sofa on Star Deck Number 3. He thought he might, after his grandad had told him the other morning that he’d stumbled across the Doc and Yaz snuggled up and fast asleep on this very sofa. Some days, he thinks, the Doctor is the most enigmatic being in the universe. Other days, she is as much in need of comfort as anybody else.

“Hey, Doc?” His voice is soft so not to startle her, as he approaches the sofa. He doesn’t quite manage, though, as she still flinches visibly.

“Oh, hey Ryan!” Her chipper voice sounds false even to her own ears, but she scoots over to make room for him on the sofa. Now that he is here, he might as well be comfortable, she thinks. It’s only polite, after all.

Ryan sits down and looks at his friend. Thinks what he wants to say, and when he cannot come up with anything proper coherent, he thinks what his gran would say. 

“It’s always worth it, you know.”

“Huh?” 

“Come on, Doctor, you know what I mean.” 

And he waits for her to make this easier for him, he never was a fan of emotional talk and prefers action to words, but she doesn’t, and so, with his nan’s voice in his head telling him to be a strong lad, he continues.

“Yaz, Doctor. I mean Yaz. I’m not blind, you know. I see the way you look at her. Can’t say I blame you, either. She’s great, she is. And she’s well worth it.”

“Worth what?” He cannot tell whether the Doctor is genuine or just buying time, but he knows that this is too important to be playing coy, so he pushes on. 

“The pain, Doctor. And the fear. Cause those will pass, after a while. And then you’ll be glad you had the good times. Trust me. Or don’t, you know. But trust my nan, yeah? It’s her advice. Gave it to me after my mum died. And she was proper clever about stuff like that.”

She sighs, and he thinks he can detect a small smile playing around her mouth. “Yeah, that’s grannies for you. Full of nebulous advice and scary bedtime stories. What did she say to you?”

And of course the Doctor would do this, Ryan thinks, distract from her own pain by focusing on his. But he knows it’s an act of love as well as an act of self-preservation, so he indulges her. For now. 

“After my mum died, I was so sad I wouldn’t leave the house for weeks. Just didn’t see the point, you know. And the worst part was, I started blaming her. For leaving. For having been around in the first place.”

“Ryan…”, she starts, but for once she doesn’t know what to say. She knows this feeling, knows it intimately, the irresistible pull of blame in the face of unbearable heartbreak, but he’s so young, and it breaks her hearts that he would know it, too. So she does the only thing she can think of and lets him talk.

“I just thought it would be easier, you know. Not to have had the good times so that the bad times wouldn’t be this bad. I was sure that not having any memories of how good we’d had it, I wouldn’t miss it all so much. And then, one day, …”

And he has to stop here to draw a shaky breath, and the Doctor reaches out her hand to lightly touch his arm to give him the strength to carry on. She can see what this is costing him, and she knows he’s doing this for her. 

When he can trust his voice again, Ryan continues. “And then one day my nan came into my room and I told her. I told her I’d rather not have had a mum at all than have to live without her now.” His tears fall freely now, and she thinks that he must not even notice them for the distant look in his eyes. She pulls a tissue out of her coat pocket and hands it to him. 

The movement draws him back to the present. “It’s one of the few times I ever say her cry, after the funeral. And it helped, you know. To know that I wasn’t the only one who was sad. And then she told me that I could keep my mum alive inside of me, that that’s what the memories are there for. Kind of what you said after, after … you know”, and his voice finally falters, and the Doctor draws him into a somewhat awkward side hug, letting him know that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to say more, that he’s been so brave. 

The hug doesn’t last long, but it gives Ryan the composure he craved and the Doctor the strength she needs to return the favour and open up to her young friend.

“Didn’t know I needed to hear this. You’re a wise young man, Ryan Sinclair. And both your mum and your gran have raised you well. Graham, too”, she adds with a smile to him, before she turns her head slightly and looks at the spectacle of the universe outside the vast panorama windows of the Star Deck.

“You know, I had to learn that lesson the hard way, too. Several times over, actually. Because the thing is, you never stop having to learn that lesson. It’s not fair, really, but that’s the way it is. Losing people, like you lost your mum and your gran, is not something that gets easier with time. In fact, it gets more difficult. It’s not something you can get used to.”

Ryan, who has always been good with numbers and who knows that his friend is a couple of lifetimes older than him, does the maths in his head, and then it’s his turn to reach out his hand to gently squeeze the Doctor’s shoulder.

“And it adds up, the heartbreak, until some days, all you can see is this big old mountain of pain, and it’s a scary sight. It’s so scary that you start to fear to feel anything at all. Even the good bits. Particularly the good bits. Because they gonna be the ones that hurt the most once they are gone. You start to fear love because of the inevitable pain it will bring when it’s over.”

“But that’s a really sad way to live your life, Doctor.”

She sighs deeply and briefly considers how much to tell him. _In for a penny…_

“I know. Been there. Done that.”

And he doesn’t know what to say to that, so he simply stretches out his arm across the sofa in a silent invitation, and he is glad when she takes him up on it and moves to his side and doesn’t flinch when he gently rests his arm on her shoulder. 

They sit in silence for a while and just watch the stars, and she thinks that Ryan is right, that it does help to not be alone in sadness and in fear. 

In fact, it makes all the difference.


End file.
